Crow's Origins (Jacksepticeye and Egos)
by Cyanacious
Summary: "I am you, yet you are not me." Waking up to nothing more than an empty void, he is alarmed. Scared. Trapped. Tall bars of his cage confine him and a chain suspends him how high, he's not sure. But how did he there in the first place? Who is the man who pretends to be his friend? Where are the others? What has he created? It's al l as p l an ned .


I can't hear anything more than the sound of my own heartbeat echoing against something I can't see.

Something I can smell, tangy and rusted, and something that I am faintly aware of being close to me. My tongue has a distinct taste jabbing it like needles. Again, tangy.

Something that I'm scared of, too scared of to open my eyes to. Because what I may find may be my worst nightmare.

How long have I been here? I know it's been a while. I was on my bed, sleeping soundly without a care in the world after a hard day of work. Suddenly, the comfort of my mattress was swiped away from me like a magic trick—a stupid, cruel magic trick. My sheets were torn away from my clutched hands and my pillow yanked from under me.

I didn't fall, though. I would've much preferred to, however. To wake up and find that it was just a joke all along. I could've continued on as normal, made some videos, played some games. I don't know where I am now, but I'm pretty sure I can't do any of those things.

Beneath me is an uncomfortable layer of what feels like thin paper over a hard surface. Every turn I make startles a rustle out of the floor—a sound I hate—and I can feel the whole area around me sway with each movement. Like I'm suspended in air, on a swing.

Although I don't feel any natural warmth shining against my body, something that feels like a blanket of plumage covers me from head to toe. Only feet twitch from the stale, cold air.

I suppose I can't lie around and wait for somebody to stir me to consciousness. In fact, I'm already awake enough as it is. I'm aware of just about everything around me: every sound and smell I can sense; every effect of my movements... At this point, I've even tried to speak some words. They only come out as hoarse croaks, but I know my throat is all right.

There's not much else to explain. I give into the prying curiosity and open my eyes.

First thing to note: my worst fears have been confirmed. I'm trapped.

I've been kidnapped, maybe. Or perhaps extreme sleepwalking? What if I walked into a shady alleyway and passed out there without even remembering? No, I was in my bed. I know it.

How did I end up here?

My surrounding look grim. My assumptions of a papery floor turn out to be correct, strips of newspaper strewn about in a messy fashion. Small feathery bits of black litter the place briskly, and a cold feeling runs down my spine when I discover them.

I turn my attention toward where I predicted the closest wall to be. But they aren't walls. It's a cylinder, the diameter roughly twice my size and the slightly thicker than wire bars reaching up just farther than I can reach. Around . . . three and a half times of me. The ceiling is a crisscross of more metal, curving into a dome and . . . and I think I can see bits of a chain before the disappear in the darkness. A chain that suspends me in the air.

I'm in a birdcage? How is that even possible?

Shaking my head and clearing my thoughts briefly, I attempt to stand on my feet. I move my—oh, crap. I almost curse aloud, holding back my tongue when my feet disobey my orders and bend strangely. Backwards instead of forwards. No knees, apparently.

I can't seem to get them to function properly, so I decide to try to get myself used to this. Flexing my feet and legs in circles, up and down, I make another try to get up. My arms awkwardly spreads out to hoist me up, but they slip against the floor and a spray of paper announces my graceful flop.

It was then I realized I wasn't even human.

I only slipped because I had no hands or fingers to secure me. My arm isn't skin and bone. Actually, yes it is, but that can only be proven true if I plucked every black feather off of me. That's why my legs are messed up, too. They're tiny talons.

I click my tongue against my beak and caw listlessly again. That's why I sound so hoarse. I don't have the ability to speak.

I steady my breathing, trying not to get too alarmed. How did this happen? Is this even possible? Last time I hcecked, the Robin I knew couldn't shape-shift into birds.

 _Robin._

Am I even him anymore? Was I ever him to begin with? I don't have the same connection to the real world. At least, not anymore. I don't even know what he had for dinner last night.

So I'm not him. Then how did I get here? Stuck in what looks like a birdcage with no distinguishable door or hooks that would indicate there was one. The spaces between the wires were just big enough to perhaps poke my small head through, though I doubt I can fit my fragile body through there.

And even if I could fit through, there's nowhere to go. Beyond my prison cell is nothing but darkness, a void expanding for what looks like miles. No lights or stars sprinkle the emptiness, the only light coming from above. It's not very efficient however.

Perhaps there's someone else here. I just can't see them.

I hop over to the far side of the cage, putting my head through the wires and caw as loudly as I can manage. No echo, just my own voice disappearing into the nothingness.

Maybe I can get out. Get out and fly. Turning away from the black void, I survey the little space I have. I think I'm able to fly around here if I'm careful. I note that there's no perch, something most birdcages have, for me to sit on. Shame.

Just as I spread my wings, I hear a sound that sounds slightly like a whiplash. _Wapshh_.

I haven't left the ground. The sound startled me, so I unfold my wings again and just as I lift off—

 _WAPSHH_

I shriek in pain as two coils of rope whip either side of me, binding me tightly as I flop to the floor. The ropes latch themselves around me knotting up on my back where I couldn't reach them. The pain in my wings and side is searing. I struggle, my chest heaving, but to no prevail. My breathing quickens and I panic as I realize that I'm all tied up, my wings bound.

I scream in pain as the ropes tighten and loosen up at an inconsistent rate. My ribs squishing and making small cracking noises, then falling apart and rearranging at strange angles. Cawing for who knows how long, I know how hopeless it is. But there's no point in keeping silent anyways.

When I lose my energy to be as loud as I possibly can, that's when another noise hits my ears. Not just metal creaking against metal, or my feet tapping against the floor nervously. Footsteps.

Oh my god. There was somebody out there. There was somebody out there, someone who—

He enters the light.

And my blood goes cold.

ø o o

 _a/n do you guys like cliffhangers?_

 _i don't._

 _and THAT'S why i put one here! ha!_

 _so, imma post part two to this if you wanna see this. sorry it's so short and really uneventful. i wanted to be as descriptive as possible. we'll get to the good crap later, okay?_

 _also, again. i don't write fan fiction. or at least, not all the time. if it turns out bad, this is exactly why._

 _also, quick shout out to the CBPS for making up this character, Crow. god, he's so cool. well, my version is._

 _anyways, that's all for now. thanks for reading. i'd love some feedback too! i could use some pointers…_

 _•.caico_


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